A Life
by Sydney47
Summary: Updated! Sydney's story, Sydney's way. She runs from herself, and Vaughn is there to meet her.
1. A Life Examined

**A/N**: There will be S/V in the second part. Enjoy.

_A Life Examined (1/2)_

She wanted to be just like her mommy. And then she didn't. Because after six years of playing a normal family with her, over twenty years of mourning her, longing for what should have been, two years that spiraled into four of overwhelming feelings of hurt, betrayal, and rage caused by her, she was finished following in her mommy's footsteps.

She thought she could be happy. And then she knew she couldn't... not then, anyway. Because she worked for SD-6, and because the man who was in charge of SD-6 decided that he could be God and control the life and death of anyone inside his little world, including anyone who had unsuspectingly stumbled into it, namely, Daniel Hecht. Retrospectively, she knew it could never have been with Danny. If she hadn't told him, there would always have been a dark, lurking distrust that would have eaten away at the bonds between them, strong as she thought they were. If she had... well, she knew the outcome of that option. Either way, she wouldn't have won.

She craved for the taste of vengeance. And then she found she had no appetite for it. Because after two years of working simultaneously for the 'good' and 'bad' guys, and after the destruction of the agency that had stolen her life, and after an unending, world-wide chase of the man behind that agency who was now working solely in the interests of his own agenda, she discovered that it was never going to stop. That man who had used her was through with using her, and she was through with throwing herself in his path to be used.

She learned to love again. And then she paid the price of having her heart shattered anew. Because God sent her a guardian angel, and she fell for him. Because she was allowed to be happy, and she had long ago learned that her ability to be happy was strictly temporary. Because she knew that she had found the _one_, and it really was too good to be true. Because a certain CIA handler had to handle more than he could carry... because he couldn't carry it _alone_. Because she would have wanted him to be happy, and there had been no precedent that could have warned her how much it would hurt to _live_ to see him happy with someone else. Because he, too, learned to love again.

She lost both of her best friends to the job. And then she admitted to herself that she had never had best friends in the first place. Because the trust was never there. Because she was never there for them when they needed her the most. Francie had gone missing before she could tell her the truth. And the... replacement used her for all she was worth, including the wrong kind of ice cream. She hadn't been able to stop Will from meddling where he shouldn't have. Her secrets had meant the death of his innocence, his naiveté. She had unwittingly lured him into taking a job that he could never quit. Her job killed him, and 'Jonah' arose from his remnants. So, as adamantly as she proclaimed the existence of friendship between him and her when she met the new him, she knew that all traces of this true, unwavering bond had unraveled the second she had dialed that number on the card the man in the suit handed to her.

She was dead. And then she awoke. Because someone had decided that she still had more suffering to endure. She had fought her friend's replacement to the death, and the Covenant had seen its opportunity. She had been ruthlessly tortured and conditioned until she transformed into Julia Thorne, or as close to this alias as would fool her captors. She killed in cold blood to ensure her own safety. She compromised her principles, the stuff of her very existence only to prolong the life that she wanted more than anything to leave. She went home, and then she wished she hadn't. Then she resigned herself to her work, and chased Rambaldi around the world, and let the Covenant take the seeds of her future redemption. She had neither the strength nor the weakness to take her own life, so she took her own memories instead. Because she was a fighter, and she had faith only in herself to get the job done.

She was reacquainting herself with her father. And then she wanted less than nothing to do with him. Because after six years of loving him as a devoted daughter, over twenty years of not understanding his cold, distant demeanor, two years of answers that only left the need for more questions, and a lifetime of betrayal deeper than she had ever before imagined, she couldn't stand even the thought of him. She wished that she had never seen those papers... those papers in the vault that she was never supposed to have found... those papers that had meant the beginning of her miserable existence. She found the truth that she was searching for, and damn did it hurt. But she was a fighter, and she was supposed to fight through the pain. But God, did she want more than ever to stop fighting.

She was Sydney Bristow for thirty-one years. And then she wasn't. Because she realized that Sydney Bristow was also Kate Jones, and Marie Robinson, and Joanna Kelly, and Julia Thorne... Sydney Bristow was hundreds of people who didn't exist, except to those who didn't know her. She knew herself, and she existed, therefore, logically, she had to be someone else. And now, she had all the time in the world to figure out just who that someone else was.


	2. A Life in Transition

**A/N**: Here's the last chapter for now, at least. Hope you like it, Agent Flamingo. ;)

_A Life in Transition (2/2)_

She wanted to disappear. So, she did. Because Sydney Bristow no longer existed... maybe she never had. She continued to call herself Sydney Bristow for only as long as it took her to board the first plane. Then, Sydney Bristow became Elizabeth Carmichael, who then became Monique Francon, who then became a few other people who only existed so that the airline employees could read her passport, look up and smile at her, and wish her a good flight.

She was running, and she knew it. She was fleeing from her country, her duty, her family... or what was left of it, herself... or who she had been. She was fleeing from love and the pain that inevitably accompanied it, from seeing _him_ with his wife in every corner, flirting or not, from the kisses, the caresses, the hushed tones he once used only with her. She fled until the memories of being with him haunted only her dreams, instead of her every waking thought, until his voice was no more than a whisper in her subconscious, until the mere thought of his touch no longer left her skin tingling. She fled until she was sure that her home had turned its back on her just as she had turned her back on it. She fled until she knew that Sydney Bristow truly was no more. She _couldn't_ be Sydney Bristow because Sydney Bristow never fled. Sydney Bristow fought. And whoever she was now, was done fighting.

She slept little because she dreamt of him. Every night, always of him. She dreamt of dark warehouses, of Kings pens. She dreamt of sunny rooftops, of bad jokes. She dreamt of uneaten dinners, of loving him. And always she woke alone, the sheets cold and the pillow untouched on the other side of the bed. She hated how her mind had decided to taunt her with what she once had, with what she knew she would never have again. Because the love was still there, and it still hurt more than any other emotional wound she had experienced. It was so painful that she couldn't stay even for him, she couldn't ask him to come with her. She knew that he would have followed her to the ends of the earth at a second's notice, but she had reached a depth deeper and darker and more torturous than she could have imagined hell to be, and she couldn't bring herself to drag him down with her. She knew that he was still smarting from the wounds his wife had inflicted upon him, that perhaps he always would be, and she couldn't unload anything more onto him. But she hated herself for leaving him, for letting him suffer alone, for not being there for him when he needed her the most, for not being _his_ guardian angel. She would never forgive herself. But it was too late to turn back now. And some things had to be done alone. That, she knew already, but he still had to learn.

* * *

She stood barefoot and wriggled her toes in the warm sand. The setting sun cast a muted orange glow upon everything in its path, so unlike anything she had seen anywhere else. She felt the wind in her hair, and closed her eyes as she breathed in the ocean air, and felt free for the first time since she could remember. Because after six years of innocent, childish happiness, over twenty years of fighting, and three months of running, she had finally taken back the life that was stolen from her. And this time, nothing was going to stop her from molding it in her own fashion.

She heard the waves crashing lightly, so softly that they were almost lapping at the shore. Just like that calm night at the pier when she relinquished her pager to the Pacific and her heart to her handler... She quickly opened her eyes and shook her head to clear the thoughts. Night hadn't quite fallen yet, and she couldn't let her thoughts stray to him until it did. Not until the moon and the stars shone the only light upon the notion that Sydney Bristow ever existed. Not until the image of him that still followed her everywhere could uncover itself from the shadows cast by daylight and illuminate her dark, little house and her small, empty dock that transformed itself into a long pier with a railing and a ferris wheel glittering in the water before it, also under the cover of night. Not until she allowed sleep to claim her and let herself dream that he would come for her again.

She felt the sand cooling under her feet and the wind pick up slightly as it always did before night fell. The air was still warm, but she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered as she watched the first stars appear in the purpling sky and let herself believe for a moment that there was nothing in the world besides her and the island. There was no past of Slush-O machines, of car washes, of golf courses, of train stations. There was no future of weekend vacations, of quiet evenings spent entirely at home in bed in his arms, of mornings after. There was no time in between of separation, of awkward moments, of traitorous wives. She had broken off of the continent... she was an island, entire of itself.

She watched the moon rise and the other stars glitter just like his eyes, and she shivered again when the wind felt like his warm skin on hers. Visions of him were already returning. She sighed resignedly as she turned to go inside, knowing that her nights were destined to be prisoner to thoughts of him forever.

* * *

She was roused by a loud clap of thunder, and lightning flashed just as she opened her eyes startling her. The shutters in living room were banging loudly against the window, propelled by an angry wind that was determinged to shake her house to the ground. She got up quickly, and tried to turn on the lamp near her bed, but she found that the lightning had knocked the power out. She cautiously got out of bed and threw a light robe around her and made her way slowly to the next room.

Another flash of lightning briefly illuminated the way to the open window. She pulled her robe tighter around her as she moved to close the window, the cold, wet wind biting through the thin material. A single glance outside made her gasp in surprise. _Someone was out there..._

She could see the dark figure standing motionless before her porch, facing the door. Momentarily, she thought that one of the children had come once again to play a trick on her, but she dismissed that theory in the next instant. The children whom she taught in the nearby secondary school had taken great pleasure in visiting her to play jokes ever since she had moved here, but for the last month, they had left her alone. The only reason for this that she could garner from them was, "We saw a green-eyed ghost watching over you. Every night, it comes closer to your house." Now she wondered if she had caught her green-eyed ghost in the act.

Indeed, it seemed content to watch over her door, even under all of heaven's fury. In the few minutes she had spent studying the mysterious figure, it had not moved at all, not even to take shelter from the storm under the awning over her porch. But now that she had taken the time to look closer at it, she could see its shoulders slumped and its head hanging low as if it were very weary and the act of just standing and watching her house was taking all of its energy. The falling rain seemed to distort its image, making it shimmer in an appearance very much like a ghost. She squinted through the glass as she pulled the window shutters closed in an attempt to better see the figure. Because of the noise of her closing the window, or because of the lack of noise now that the window was closed... whatever the reason, the figure suddenly lifted its head in the direction of the window and she knew that it had seen her.

She gasped again and ducked from its view, but then laughed and cursed at herself for believing her students' ghost story. She straightened and walked to the door, intent on finding out just who this ghost was, but jumped back at the sound of a knock. Something... someone was knocking on her door... Someone was knocking on her door? On her door to her little house on an island in the middle of the Pacific at this time at night while at the mercy of a thunderstorm? If she had concluded anything from this night so far, it was this: _whoever was out there was insane._

She pulled the door open cautiously, squinting to see anything through the blackness, but lightning flashed again, and she saw him. It was only for an instant, and she thought that her eyes were fooling her, but then she knew that it could have only been him. At her door to her little house on an island in the middle of the Pacific at this time at night while at the mercy of a thunderstorm, only he would be insane enough to be here.

"You're here." She could have sworn that she had whispered, but the words had seemed to clearly carry over the falling rain, the rumbling thunder, even the pounding of her heart, which she was certain was deafening.

"I'm here," she heard his answer just as clearly in that voice she could never forget.

Still trying to believe her eyes and ears, she continued slowly, "You're here... in this weather... and you... knocked?"

He answered like it was the most natural, logical response in the world. "I had to know. I had to know that there was nothing in the way of you letting me in... that there was nothing in the way of you wanting to let me in."

She nodded in understanding, though she doubted that he could see her. It didn't matter. He knew she would understand.

In the next flash of lightning, she saw that he looked just as she remembered him, but she was sure that his eyes had never been greener. She could feel them moving over her form even through the darkness. What she didn't yet know was the weariness of two years of searching and chasing that now resided in them, that they made him look older now, that he had changed. But she would learn.

"I can't believe you found me," she murmured. She couldn't see him when he answered this time, but she knew that his eyes glittered just like the stars as he spoke.

"Didn't you know? We always find each other."

This was too perfect. This couldn't be real. She had to be dreaming again. But when she felt his hand on her cheek, all of her doubt washed away in the rain. She leaned into his touch as he began the feather-light stroking that could only come from him, and she felt like not a second had passed since she had last been in his arms.

"I missed you so much, Syd—"

She stiffened against his touch at the sound of that name, and he pulled his hand away, startled.

She spoke in a low, urgent tone. "I'm not her anymore."

He sighed, and she could sense he nodded. "Maybe that's why it took me so long to find you. I was chasing someone who didn't exist. For a second, I thought that maybe you were still her, and I was still 'Vaughn.' But, I don't think I've been him since you died."

It was her turn to nod once more. "We both need to start over again. Together, this time."

She felt his hand against her face again, and she pulled it into her own, smiling, "We can start tomorrow. Come inside now. You're all wet."

* * *

She was done running. He was done chasing. They had found each other. That was enough for the night.

They could live tomorrow.


	3. A Life of Inescapable Betrayal

**A/N**: So, I did decide to continue, against my will, I might add, seeing as how there are a million other things I should be doing right now besides writing or even thinking about writing. But, when the muse strikes, you've got to obey, I guess. Be prepared for some major angst! And just a warning, I'm not sure if I'm going to continue after this, and I won't be able to update this anytime soon if so. Anyway, please enjoy and leave a review so I'll know if I should continue when I have time. Thanks for reading!

_A Life of Inescapable Betrayal_

He had found her. But he wondered whom exactly it was he had found. She wasn't who she used to be, that much was obvious. He could hear her old self whispering _Vaughn_ when he had turned up on her doorstep in the rain after two more years of separation.

But his name was not what she had spoken.

Because she knew that their time apart had changed both of them... and this was no simple disguise that could be removed at the end of a mission, no wigs or make-up, not another alias to be added to list of which she could no longer keep track... This was simply her and him, both more vulnerable than ever, because there had never before been a time when their guards could be let down completely, when there wasn't even a possiblity of being interrupted by other people's problems, when they weren't expected to sacrifice _their_ time for the safety of everyone _else_. Beautiful, relieving, effortless as it was, he couldn't help longing for the time before all of this...

They never used names, not anymore. That was just another understanding that had not needed words. It was the initial understanding that led to many other implicit understandings until it reached the point that the use of words in any circumstance seemed superfluous. Whether it was him wanting an invitation to sit with her on the small dock, or her waking him from a nightmare of their life before this freedom, a simple smile in their eyes and a soothing hand was enough. That was why she was utterly confused, hurt even, when he pulled away from an almost-kiss and asked, "Why did you leave?"

"What?" She blinked and shook her head as she tried to verify if she heard him correctly over the blaring thought of _why the hell did he pull away_ that ran through her head.

His brow creased and he paused to glance down at his feet in guilt before he raised his eyes back to her and repeated in a perfectly stoic tone, "Why did you leave?"

Not a hint of anger, not a trace of hurt. The only thing she could find in his voice was the words that glared back at her with their own ferocity, so much so that adding outside emotion to them would be redundant. Her brows knitted as she studied him in search of the meaning behind his words, but for the first time since they were reunited, she couldn't read him. And that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

But her tell was obvious. It always had been. Two years of self-induced and desired change had done nothing to rid her of the mannerisms he would recognize anywhere. She tucked her hair behind her ear and ran her hand down her face as she moved to sit up straighter on the couch and responded, "I think you know why."

"I need you to tell me."

She was getting tired of his stoicism. "You need me to tell you what? That I couldn't handle remembering you with Lauren every day in the office? That I'd had enough of the betrayal and the lying and the decieving coming from people close to me? That you were right nearly from the beginning that living in hiding is easier, better even? Fine! You _were_ right, and it _is_ easier!"

She glared at him before crossing her arms and turning her head away from him to regain some semblance of control.

He sighed and looked down at his hands. "No. I want to know why you left without me."

He saw her lip tremble, but she kept her face turned to the side. Then, after two and a half weeks of understandings, he broke rule number one.

"Please, Syd..."

She turned to face him, and he brushed a gentle thumb over the path left by a fallen tear. She bit her lip and smiled to keep more from falling before she spoke in a broken voice, "I couldn't wait... I wanted to, but I just couldn't, Vaughn. I had to leave then, or I might never have, and I couldn't stay. You were still sick, and I couldn't wait, and then my father... I should have waited for you... I'm sorry..."

She started to break down, but Vaughn pulled her into his arms and soothed her as she took shuddering breaths. He held her until she calmed enough to pull back and wipe her eyes, trying to smile at him as he looked down at her in concern. Now that his blank expression had been broken, she was able to see the emotion behind his words, the reasoning. Seriousness took over her features, and her voice was stern, "That's not what you wanted to ask me. There's something else."

He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes when he pinched the bridge of his nose, but didn't respond.

"_Tell_ me, Vaughn."

He sighed, refusing to meet her eyes, but she knew he was speaking the truth this time. "After we left Palmero, the CIA sent a team to clean up the Covenant site and... retrieve the body. When they got back, they reported that there had been no body in the shaft, no blood where she should have fallen, nothing. While you were gone, we apprehended Sloane. In his search for the Sphere of Life, he admitted to have crossed paths with Sark and that Sark had been the one to remove Lauren from the Covenant site. He wouldn't say if she was dead or alive, and he wouldn't give up their location. He refused to give up any more information until he could talk to you."

"So you were sent to bring me back."

He inwardly cringed at the betrayed look that she delivered him. "No. I came on my own—"

"Because you thought it would be easier if you had time to win me over."

"No! I came to warn you... and..." He felt her eyes pierce through his as if he were transparent. He swallowed before he continued. "I thought you might be more willing to come back if you heard it from me."

He lowered his eyes and braced himself for her seething response but was surprised when all he heard was a soft, "Get out."

"Get out?" he retorted as he looked up in confusion.

"You were wrong. There is no way in hell that I'm going back to be the CIA's pawn in another one of Sloane's twisted games. Go find Lauren or her corpse by yourself. I'm not leaving." She stood up in frustration and turned her back to him, crossing her arms around herself as if she were trying to hold herself together.

Vaughn stood up and took a tentative step towards her and put his hand carefully on her shoulder. "Syd..."

She stiffened under his touch. "Don't, Vaughn," she whispered.

"Please..." He started to bring his other arm around her to pull her towards him, but in that instant, she spun around and shoved him back towards the couch. "I said get the hell out of here!" she yelled. Her voice broke again when she added, "Please, just leave." She stood in front of him, shaking with the effort to breathe and keep her tears from falling at the same time.

Vaughn stood up awkwardly from where he had fallen onto the couch. He took a deep breath, but didn't dare to step closer to her this time. "You need to understand something, Sydney. I _have_ to know that she's dead."

"Emptying your clip on her in Palermo wasn't enough?" she interjected, but he didn't pause.

"You're the only person who can get Sloane to talk. Believe me when I tell you that if there was another way, I wouldn't have bothered coming to you."

She didn't want his words to sting. Two and a half weeks ago, she wouldn't have cared less. But after what she thought was a new start with him...

She whispered harshly in a voice that sounded more hurt than he ever remembered coming from her, "Lauren's the only reason you're here." She had wanted it to sound like a question, but she felt that she already knew the answer.

"Not the only reason." He lowered his eyes and studied his feet.

"But she is the first."

It was his turn to sound hurt, and he glared at her through wide eyes. "You left me when I needed you! _Willingly_!"

She could feel the guilt start to rise in her, but she suppressed it as best as she could. She was supposed to be the hurt, angry one right now. _He_ was here betraying _her_.

"Look," she began as calmly as she could, "I'm sorry that your wife betrayed you, and I'm sorry that I left when I did, and I'm sorry that you came all this way for nothing, because I can never go back to that life, especially not now. I thought you of all people would understand that. I'm not letting anyone use me again, not even you."

"Syd," he pleaded, "you don't know what it's like..."

She tilted her head and broke him off sardonically, "To be betrayed by someone you love? To find out the life you were living was a lie? That's funny, I seem to remember quite vividly what those things are like."

He sighed in defeat. He wasn't going to win with her. "I think I'd better go."

"Yeah," she nodded. "That's a good idea."

He made his way to the door, but turned around before opening it, hoping she would budge.

She didn't.

A part of him long buried wanted to smile at her characteristic stubborness. No matter how long she ran, however she tried to convince herself that she wasn't who she used to be, she was still Sydney to him.

He closed the door softly behind him as he stepped outside, an anticlimactic resolution to a heated argument, but one that was final, nonetheless.

She stood, riveted in place, until she gathered the energy to walk towards the couch and sink down onto it.

She buried her head in her hands and cried.

_TBC?_


	4. A Life Returned

**A/N**: So here it is – Chapter 4! Only after two months… over two months. (sheepish grin) Sorry for the wait, but I've been a busy girl. Be thankful to my teddy bear, Fred, for helping me get through writing this… or at least providing me with entertainment during my breaks. ;-) Enjoy!

_A Life Returned_

He didn't want to leave. But he knew that he wasn't getting anywhere with her. She was still as stubborn as ever, and she probably always would be. He wanted to laugh at his helplessness when it came to her will, but he didn't have the heart. He realized that he was now completely out of options other than to find Lauren by himself. Oh sure, he could go groveling back to the CIA, but their only option was Sloane, and he wasn't going to budge.

He sighed tiredly and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. This was the last thing that he ever wanted to do, but Lauren had always had a power over him; he couldn't deny that. Even in possible death, she had his heart gripped in a steel vice, and nothing would take that pain away except to repay the favor – literally. Even after chasing Sydney around the world for two years and finding her _alive_, he couldn't let her hold him and allow her seemingly magical efforts to make the vice release its bruised and battered prisoner. And even now, after being defeated once more, it felt like the vice had tightened its grip by at least two notches. So, he was off to do what he had to do, no matter how much he didn't want to do it alone.

* * *

She slowly composed herself, a task that was ever harder now that Vaughn was no longer by her side to help piece her back together. But when she rose, she was that much stronger. Alone, she had dedicated herself to the good of her country. Alone, she was called upon to defeat the savage monster that was her employer. Alone, she hid her pain from the innocent around her and bared a brave front. Alone, she escaped the merciless, ruthless, sadistic pawns of Rambaldi under the guise of the Covenant. Alone, she fled when she could no longer hide the pain. And now, alone she was again, deserted by her friend, her lover, the other half of her soul. But she knew that she had been alone before, and she could do it again. 

Even so, she was tempted to follow Vaughn back to her former home, back to the life that she hated, back into Sloane's icy clutches. But she knew that she couldn't go back; she had played into Sloane's hands far too many times, and she wasn't ready to repeat that mistake. She still had a million other things to think about – her new house, the children at the school, the betrayal of her father, the mysterious ambiguousness of her mother and aunt, the disappearance of her newly found sister, all of the players of her discombobulated excuse for a family, each dysfunctional in their own way. But they were still her family; what had become of them? Was her father searching for her in hopes to salvage what was left of his daughter, his project? Just what side were her mother and aunt on? Who were they working for? What did they desire? Where was her sister hidden? Did she go willingly? All of these questions circled around her brain, leaving her dizzy and confused. Nauseousness grew in her stomach until she felt that she could stand on her own no longer. She had to get air; she needed help; she couldn't do this alone. But whom could she turn to for help? She couldn't look to her family – they were messed up enough as it was. Vaughn had left her just as she had done him, and she couldn't blame him for that, not after he had been so hurt once more. She could only think to go to the CIA, but even they might refuse her. For all she knew, they had declared her deserterer and traitor. And anyway, that option only led back to _him_.

To Sloane.

But how much longer was she willing to let this option go untaken? How much longer could she hold out on her own? How much longer could she deny herself as the Sydney Bristow that was meant to save the world?

* * *

"What are you doing here?" That voice, the voice she would recognize anywhere; soft and deep with a higher pitch to it, caring, loving, concerned… Vaughn. She knew it was him, and only him. But what would he do if he knew it was her here, now? She could flee, but where would she go? She was here now, and she had to stay. So she turned, and saw him for the first time in three years. 

His hair was longer, more wild than she had seen it before. His eyes were darker, stronger, holding more sadness behind their strength. He stood as tall as he ever had, but his shoulders were slumped, a weight bearing down upon them in an effort to force him to the ground; but still, he stood tall. But for all his appearance, it _was_ him.

"Vaughn…" she whispered, gazing into his wide, disbeliving eyes.

"What are _you_ doing here?!" he hissed this time.

"Vaughn, I…" She thought his dark eyes would narrow in anger, but he surprised her when she saw the old love in them.

Surprising her even further, he grabbed her in a ferocious hug. "I thought I'd never see you again," he whispered into her hair. He grasped at her desperately as he burrowed his head deeper into her dark hair surrounding her long neck.

Still taken aback by his action, she sputtered again as she hugged him back, "Vaughn, I… I'm glad that you're here, too."

"Glad? Syd, I'm _elated_! I thought you would be on that island forever. I thought that I'd never get you back. I can't believe that you're here!" He pulled back and gazed at her in wonderment.

Not knowing what else to do, she blushed. "Yeah, well… I can not be stubborn when I want to be."

"Yeah, it only took you three years," he smirked at her.

Her eyes twinkled at his banter, and he saw her bright smile that he thought he had lost forever. It dazed him, but he regained his senses moments later.

"Syd, what _are_ you doing here?" he asked again.

"There was no where else to go," she answered simply. She added jokingly, "You know me. I can't stay still _anywhere_."

He grasped her hand tightly in his, warming her entire body and soul. "I'm glad," he said, smiling.

He gazed into her like he always did, and she felt him everywhere. A second passed, then seemed to repeat over and again until they were locked through their eyes, entwined by their love like they were not a moment away from their golden time of happiness together, each bound by the other's breath as their only wanted source of air. Lips seeking each other… closer…

Unsolicited, their moment was interrupted.

The guard stood before them and spoke as if he were oblivious to the power of the two before him.

"Miss Bristow," he said, "we're ready for you."

Startled, Vaughn asked her, "Where are you going?"

She took a deep breath and brought back her cold exterior. "I'm going to see Sloane."

**A/N**: What will be the outcome of _that_ conversation? Did Vaughn ever find Lauren? What will become of Sydney this time? Stay tuned, faithful viewers, for the next exciting episode! (cue dramatic music) (Hopefully the wait won't be as long this time ;-))


	5. A Life in Danger

**A/N**: Enjoy this short chapter.

_A Life in Danger_

"You're going to see _Sloane_?!" Vaughn exclaimed. "The last time that we talked, you made it clear that there was no way you would talk to him again."

"That was three years ago. Things change… People change," Sydney explained simply.

"That may be true. But I wouldn't count on Sloane appearing any differently. He didn't respond well to the CIA's efforts to forcefully extract more information from him, meaning we… well… _I_ haven't gotten what I wanted – Lauren's location."

"I guess Sloane isn't the only one who hasn't changed," she muttered under her breath. "You're still fixating on your ex-wife's betrayal?"

He shook his head. "She's not my obsession any longer, but her capture is still important to me, as well as to the CIA. She needs to pay for what she's done – not only to me."

"She does need to pay. That's partly why I'm here. But she also may be a key to my missing two years," Sydney said remembering the last night she saw Lauren and the clue that Lauren had given to her. "Even though I got most of the answers as to what happened over that time, there are still missing pieces. I can't go on living without a complete answer."

"It took you three more years to come to that conclustion?" Vaughn asked, confused.

"I've kept busy," she answered enigmatically. She turned to go before he could question her further.

"Syd," he called, and she turned around expectantly. "Good luck," he said earnestly.

She smiled brightly in response.

* * *

Masking her uncertainty about this meeting, as any weakness shown would be detrimental to her goals, Sydney let her air of confidence be known in her stride as well as her posture. There was no way Sloane would be getting any free shots.

She entered a chamber set up much like her mother's old cell, facing a glass partition and the image of Sloane's back turned to her.

She cleared her throat. "You wanted to see me."

Sloane turned, a smug little smile on his face. Even having spent three years in the CIA's custody, he looked hardly more worn for the wear. The only real noticeable difference was his hair, which was speckled with more white. "Sydney… I always knew that you would come back."

"Let's not get into pleasantries. Now, what did you want from me?"

For a moment, Sloane's smile reached the wrinkles around his eyes. Then he turned serious. "Your help," he answered.

"Why on earth would you think –"

"It's about your sister," he interrupted. "She's in trouble."

Sydney narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "You waited _three years_ on the off chance that I would actually return to this life to tell me that Nadia's in trouble? You _are_ insane!"

Sloane approached the glass and raised his hands placatingly. "Sydney, you're the only person who can help her."

"Why me?" she asked, still dubious.

"Your sister has the Sphere of Life. Your mother wants it, and I'm sure she'll use any means to get it. You're the only person I trust to get the Sphere, save your sister, all without killing your mother. She is still a part of Rambaldi's plan, but she is trying to cut corners. She must be stopped.

I know Nadia's location. You must go there and protect her."

"It's been three years since you and Nadia were separated. How can you know that she is where you left her? How do you know that my mother hasn't already found her?"

"I just know," he answered with finality.

She studied him carefully. Nothing in his appearance made it look like he was uncertain or like he was trying to decieve her. Of course, that is how he looked when he presented her missions at SD-6. But some feeling she had told her to trust him this time.

"All right," she said. "I'll go. But first answer me this. Where is Lauren Reed? Is she still alive?"

"That is something that I'll answer after you return with your sister and the Sphere of Life."

"Why not now?" she pushed, frustrated.

"All of your attention should be focused on your current mission. No distractions equals no compromises to the plan. Mr. Vaughn will just have to wait," he added snidely.


	6. A Life Like This

**A/N**: Please review and enjoy :-) 

_A Life Like This_

She had no reason to believe a word this chronic liar was feeding her. She was through playing his sick, little mind games – she had been for years. Yet she had been drawn back to him after vowing to not let anything like this happen again, all for the love of a man who had buried her and whom she herself had left once she had been resurrected.

She had come back to the life that she hated willingly, albeit after a long time of analyzing just what she would get out of it. Her answer was nothing and everything. The nothing being what had driven her away in the first place – the constant lying and betrayal, the unpredictability and danger involved, the inability to ever really have time away from the job… But the everything is what would make it all worth it in her eyes; because the everything was Vaughn and starting a life with him when all of the nothing would be thrust away once the final bit of work was done.

She entered the main office, and Vaughn immediately spotted her, as he was hardly even making an effort to be occupied by work. She was deep in thought even as Vaughn led her back to his desk.

"Syd, are you alright? What did Sloane say?" he asked, trying to break her out of her silence.

She sighed heavily as she leaned against Vaughn's desk and crossed her arms. "I don't really know. I mean, I know what he said, but I don't know what he really _meant_."

Ever since she had learned the truth about SD-6, it had always been a guessing game with Sloane – whether to believe what information he passed on or not. Even though it was nearly always the latter, the game had changed. Sloane was in custody, so there was no benefit foreseeable benefit for him to be misleading; but there was a new pawn thrown into the mix, one that Sloane would likely do anything to protect – his daughter. What other explanation could there be other than wanting to save Nadia's life if Sloane would be willing to have her taken into custody? Could it really be as simple as that for once?

Vaughn nodded in understanding. "Did he say anything about Lauren?"

She shook her head. "Only that he'll tell us what happened to her when we bring back Nadia and the Sphere of Life."

Vaughn's brow crinkled as he tensed visibly and muttered under his breath, "That bastard…"

Sydney thought for a moment then spoke again, "Vaughn, how is Sloane even here? If he hasn't cooperated after all this time, why—"

"He has cooperated, to an extent. He gave us the information needed to dismantle numerous terrorist cells, but knowing he wouldn't get full immunity without disclosing the whereabouts of the Sphere, he settled for a furnished cell. That has been the only thing he's kept from us – that and the reason why it had to be you he would confess to."

"I don't understand that either, but it has to mean something… some reason why I have to be involved…" They both drifted into thought for a few moments until Vaughn brought the attention back to issues at hand.

"How are we supposed to find Nadia and the Sphere?"

"Sloane gave me a location – an apartment in Moneghetti, Monaco. He said Nadia is still there."

Vaughn started. "Are you kidding? How can he possibly know that?"

"I know it's unlikely, but… Maybe they set up a protocol if they were ever to get separated or something like that. It may be taking a long shot, but what other choice do we have?"

"You're probably right," he nodded. "And if Sloane is finally giving us the information we want, we should jump on it." After a pause, he went on, "You know, you never answered my first question… Are you okay?"

She looked down briefly then back at him, and unfolded her arms to support her as she leaned on the desk. She shrugged and said, "I'm fine, I guess."

Vaughn kept his eyes locked with hers, telling her silently that he wanted more than that.

She sighed a little and continued. "It's strange being back, but also all too familiar. There are things about a life like this that I will never stop hating, no matter how long I've been accustomed to them. But, I hoped that coming back to you would make it all not seem as bad," she paused but he was too touched to say anything. "…Because you had that effect before."

She watched his smile grow, his face lit up with color. "I missed you… so much," he said softly, stepping closer to her.

Standing up completely, she said, "Me too. And, I hated the way we left each other. There was so much more that needed to be said, so many ways that situation could've been fixed…"

"I know. You have no idea how many times I thought about going back to you. But, it always ended up with the thought that you wouldn't have me back."

She smiled sadly. "There were times when I wished you had. I wished you could've just dumped your feelings for Lauren to the wayside and set off to start a life away from anything but peace.

I wish you would've stayed with me." She turned her head away as a few tears fell out of regret for what wasn't in her and Vaughn's past together.

"Hey," he said softly, bringing his hand to turn her face back to him. "We're here now, right?"

She bit her lip and smiled as she nodded.

He continued, "Then that's what counts." He lifted her chin and kissed her gently. "God, I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you too," she breathed. She laughed a little through her tears that were now out of joy before she kissed him again.

_TBC_


End file.
